


take my body, make it yours

by Zoejoy24



Category: Numb3rs (TV), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Gay Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoejoy24/pseuds/Zoejoy24
Summary: Malcolm met Ian at Quantico, and it wasn't long before they were falling into bed with each other, and then into something a little more serious.  They've been seeing each other for a few months, and Malcolm is more than happy to let Ian take control of things in bed.  But then Ian suggests taking things to a new level, leaving Malcolm to question just how far he's willing to let his trust in Ian take him.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Ian Edgerton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	take my body, make it yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToriCeratops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Tori! I hope you enjoy this humble gift.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The idea for this story came to me very, very last minute, and I willingly admit that I wrote it in a bit of a rush. It isn't beta'd and I did my own quick edit job but I'm sure there are plenty of mistakes. Hopefully it's still readable and enjoyable, and I promise I will clean it up later when I have a little more time.

“Remind me how long you’ll be gone again?” Malcolm asks, watching warily as his lover stalks towards him from across the room.

“You know I don’t know how long, but it shouldn’t be more than a week,” Ian replies. “Now, lay back.”

Malcolm obeys with a sigh, flopping back onto the mattress, legs hanging over the edge. He’s naked, still, while Ian is fully clothed, and that alone is nearly enough to set him off. But Ian had worked him over  _ very _ thoroughly this morning already, waking Malcolm with his mouth around his cock, working him open as he sucked him off, then fucking him into the mattress and through a second orgasm. 

And then Ian had sprung the question on him.

He’d been propped up on one elbow, looking down at Malcolm where he lay, sated and sore, smiling dopily up at his lover. “I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Ian had murmured, an unusually sweet sentiment that made Malcolm blush. The older man was silent for a moment longer, tracing lazing patterns into Malcolm’s skin with his fingertips, but Malcolm could see he had something more on his mind. He didn’t push, perfectly willing to lay and wait under Ian’s gentle ministrations.

“I want you to wear your cage while I’m gone,” Ian had finally said.

Malcolm’s eyes flew open and he’d looked up at Ian in shock, mouth agape, completely surprised by Ian’s request. Suddenly, the older man’s eagerness to finish him off twice that morning made more sense. 

“What?” was all the response he’d managed.

“Think about it. I’m going to shower.” With that Ian rolled out of bed and left Malcolm reeling, considering his request.

He barely moved the whole time Ian was gone, thinking through all the implications, but really, he’d made his mind up almost before Ian had gotten to the bathroom.

“Yes,” he’d said as soon as Ian had returned, turning onto his side and watching as Ian sorted through his closet.

Ian had turned a wide, almost feral grin on him that had sent a shiver of lust and fear tingling down his spine.

“Go get cleaned up, kid. Don’t get dressed yet, though,” was all Ian had said in reply.

So now, he’s waiting, sprawled sideways across the bed, watching as Ian kneels in front of him, cock cage in hand.

“Are you sure about this, Malcolm?” Ian asks, running a soothing had along the inside of Malcolm’s knee.

Malcolm lifts his head to look down at Ian and nods, a small, nervous smile playing along his lips. 

“Good boy,” Ian murmurs. He leans over Malcolm and sets to work. He slides the ring on first, slipping it over Malcolm’s flaccid cock and balls and pressing it firmly up against his body. He goes slowly, teasingly, and Malcolm lets out a quiet groan of frustration as he realizes Ian’s intent from just the few first touches.

“Ian, please,  _ sir _ ,” he pleads quietly. 

“What, kid?” Ian chuckles, fingertips dancing teasingly along his shaft.

“Just put it on,  _ please _ .”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Ian replies, picking up the cage and holding it up so that Malcolm can see.

Malcolm groans and does his best to relax, lying completely still except for his hands, which are down at his side, clenching and unclenching in the bedsheets. He looks up at the ceiling and employs every trick he knows to not get hard. It shouldn’t be that difficult considering their earlier activities, but Ian is very good with his fingers, and he is being a wicked tease as he works Malcolm into the device.

Ian cups his cock in his palm, bouncing it lightly before curling his fingers lightly around it and tugging gently, once, twice, drawing a desperate moan from Malcolm’s lips as he struggles not to respond to the touches. “Hush,” Ian orders with a sharp slap to the inside of Malcolm’s thigh.

Macolm has to bite his lip to keep from crying out, but he obeys, closing his eyes and focusing on taking calming breaths as Ian continues to work.

With more than a few unnecessary, teasing touches, Ian works him into the cage, and despite Malcolm’s best efforts his cock has started to fill by the time Ian is securing the cage to the ring, making the fit less than comfortable. He lets out a slow breath between gritted teeth as Ian teases him through the metal bars of the cage. “Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” he moans when he hears the small padlock snap into place. He lifts his head once more to glance down his body, breathing quickly as he takes in the sight of his now trapped cock, encased in thin metal bars running along the length of his cock, curving over the head.

It’s not the first time Ian has locked him up, it's not even the first time he’ll be wearing the cage for several consecutive days. But it is the first time Ian will be locking him in, and then leaving. 

“What do you say, kid?” Ian prompts, tugging at Malcolm’s balls and fondling him once more before rising to his feet.

“Thank you, sir,” Malcolm moans.

“Good boy. I’m proud of you, Malcolm,” Ian tells him. He’s looking down on Malcolm with a hungry, predatory gaze, eyes raking across Malcolm’s prone form. “I’m going to be thinking of you the whole time I’m gone, the way you look right now. Spread out beneath me, locked up and waiting, just for me. You’re mine, you know that, right?” he asks, leaning forward to run the flat of his palm over Malcolm’s chest, pausing to tweak a nipple.

Malcolm inhales sharply, forgetting to answer as his cock tries valiantly to get hard in the confines of the cage.

Ian pinches him again, harder. “Answer me,” he orders.

“Yes, yes sir,” Malcolm gasps. “Yours. No one else's.”

“That’s right. Not even you get to decide what you’re gonna do with your cock. It belongs to me now, just like the rest of you.”

Malcolm groans, head thudding back against the mattress once more as Ian’s words send a bolt of lust coursing through him.

“Go get dressed, you're going to be late,” Ian instructs, slapping lightly on the thigh once before walking out of the bedroom.

It takes Malcolm several long minutes of deep, slow breaths before he feels like he can even move, much less start to put clothes on. He glances at the clock at curses. He is going to be late, it’s unavoidable at this point. Which means he’ll have to come up with some sort of excuse that doesn’t include being locked up by his possessive lover. 

Ian will be gone by the time Malcolm gets home from work, so they say their goodbyes at the door before Malcolm leaves. Ian pulls him into a long, deep kiss, slipping a hand down to cup Malcolm through his slacks, smiling against his lips as he feels him, all caged up.

“Be a good boy for me, Malcolm,” Ian tells him once they pull apart. “No touching, no coming.” He reaches around and squeezes Malcolm’s ass, slapping him once. “You can use your plug, keep yourself loose for me. But no getting off, understand?”

“Ian, fuck. Yes,  _ yes, _ I understand, sir,” Malcolm whines. 

Malcolm is a mess for most of his commute as he vacillates between giddy excitement and panicked regret. Handing control of his body, of the most intimate parts of himself, over to Ian is equal parts arousing and terrifying and his mind cycles through scenario after scenario of how this next week (if he’s lucky) could be amazing or horrendous.

By the time he arrives at his desk he's focused and ready to work. His job is too important for him to be lost in thought about things that are far from workplace appropriate. He buries himself in his current case and everything else fades into the background.

He works late, in no hurry to go home to an empty apartment, and gets take out for dinner on his way home. He settles in with a book, ready to read the night away until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, when his phone rings. He’s surprised when he sees Ian’s name pop up on the screen. Usually the sniper stays almost entirely disconnected from the outside world when he’s out tracking, and Malcolm hadn’t expected to hear from him again after he’d received a text confirming his safe arrival earlier in the day. 

He answers, book forgotten. “Ian, hey. Everything alright?”

Ian chuckles. “Everything’s good, kid. I’m still at the hotel for tonight, heading out tomorrow. Figured I’d give you a call.”

“Oh, okay,” Malcolm replies lamely. It’s not that he isn’t happy to hear from the man, it’s just unusual.

“Been thinking about you all day,” Ian continued, voice dropping an octave and sending a shiver down Malcolm’s spine.

“Oh?” Malcolm asks, settling back against the cushions. He reaches down to cup himself, already liking where this conversation is headed, and then groans in frustration. He’d truly forgotten about the cage.

On the other end of the line Ian lets out a breathy little laugh. “Yeah kid. Been thinking about you like  _ that _ . Have you been good for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Malcolm replies, voice strained. Ian growls. “I mean yes, yes sir. I’ve been good.”

“Are you wearing your plug?”

“No,” Malcolm admits. Another thing he’d forgotten.

Ian tsks on the other end. “Not so good, then?” he muses. “Here I was, picturing you all locked up, waiting for me. That tight ass of yours plugged up, stretched open. Ready for me to fill as soon as I get back.”

Malcolm moans, his cock filling, pressing against the confines of the cage. “Ian, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I was going to tell you you could play with yourself, fuck yourself open like it was me there. I wanted to hear all those delicious sounds you make. But I guess I’ll just have to imagine it now.”

Malcolm practically sobs in frustration as Ian talks. He’s gripping his phone so tight it hurts, his other other clenched into a fist at his side. “Fuck, Ian. I could… I can put it in now,” he suggests.

“Oh, you are going to put it in. But I don’t feel like waiting. So I’m going to hang up now, and think of you while I get myself off tonight. And you're going to plug up that pretty little hole of yours, and then send me pictures. I want to see your cock, and your ass, all plugged up. Understand?” 

“Yessir,” Malcolm mumbles.

“Good boy. Oh, and Malcolm, one more thing.”

“Yes?” 

“I left the key at home,” Ian says.

“What?” Malcolm gasps out.

“I left the key there. If you decide it’s too much, or that you can’t stay locked up for me, you don’t have too.”

Malcolm sucks in a breath, mind racing at the implications. He could… he could let himself out, just for tonight, just enough to get off, one more time. Ian wouldn’t know...

“You wouldn’t even have to tell me. But I’ll know, Malcolm. It’s up to you, but I promise if you trust me, if you keep the cage on and follow the rules, I’ll make it so good for you when I get back.”

Malcolm whines desperately. “Sir, I’m. I won’t take it off. I trust you,” he promises.

“That’s my good boy. Good night, Malcolm. Don’t forget, pictures,” Ian says, and Malcolm can hear the smile in his voice.

As soon as Ian hangs up Malcolm races to obey, opening himself up as quickly as he can get away with and sliding the plug in. It takes several tries for him to get picture’s he’s happy with, but he chooses the three that he likes the most and sends them off to Ian before finally crawling into bed and trying to quiet his racing mind so that he can fall asleep.

The days go quickly. Malcolm’s current case keeps him busy, his mind occupied, and gives him an excuse to stay at work longer than he usually would. For the most part, he barely notices the cage. Once he’s home for the night he opens himself up and slips in his plug. That’s always the hardest part. He works quickly and efficiently, doing the bare minimum to ensure he won’t hurt himself. It’s not about his pleasure, not this week. It’s about being a good boy, and keeping himself ready for Ian. It’s a strange new mindset, and one he finds incredibly arousing—thinking of himself as a tool, something to be kept ready for use, existing for another man’s pleasure and nothing more. 

On the fourth day he thinks about keeping the plug in, wearing it all day just in case Ian gets back. But he decides against it. He’s been on edge now and he doesn’t trust himself to be able to stay focused at work if he’s plugged up. The cage is one thing, a minor discomfort at the most. The plug would be a distraction. He leaves it at home.

On the evening of the sixth day he almost breaks down, almost gives in and goes in search of the key Ian had left. He hadn’t told him where he’d left it, but Malcolm has a few ideas and he’s sure it wouldn’t be hard to find.

The evening starts like all the others had. He gets home, showers and slips in his plug. He indulges himself more than he should, playing with the plug as he slides it in, pushing a little harder, a little deeper, teasing his rim with the thick girth of it. He stops before anything really comes of it, his cock still obediently soft in its cage. He gets his book and settles on the couch, a low grade thrum of arousal pooling low in his belly that's easy enough to ignore.

Until he shifts, adjusting his position on the couch. The movement jostles the plug inside of him so it presses sharply against his prostate. It sends a jolt of arousal through him and he cries out, arching up off the couch before sliding to the floor with a groan. He presses his head against the couch cushion, taking deep, ragged breaths as his cock throbs, pressing painfully against the cage. He tries to move, whimpering as it sends another tingling shock through him. Suddenly, the only thought in his mind is that he needs to come. He's nearly sobbing, hands clenched tight as he breathes through it. 

He fights through it, too stubborn to give in now. Ian will be home any day, he  _ has _ to be home any day or Malcolm isn't going to make it. He does take out the plug though, uninterested in continuing to fight this arousal when he's supposed to be sleeping.

Malcolm's case wraps up on a Friday, leaving him free for a rare weekend off. He goes out for dinner with coworkers and enjoys his evening surprisingly well. It's a good way to brush off the lingering after effects of the case and a distraction from the still empty apartment waiting for him. 

He misses Ian, and not just because he's ready to be free of the cage. He truly cares about the other man, and this is one of the longer stretches of time the sniper has been gone since they'd entered into a serious relationship just a few short months ago. He misses their conversations, and also Ian's silent, steady presence when they're both caught up in their own activities, happy to just be in each other's company.

He's pleasantly buzzed by the time he gets home, and it's late enough that he's ready to go straight to bed. He brushes his teeth, strips down to his boxer briefs and stumbles to the bedroom. He’s already in bed when he remembers the plug, and briefly considers saying 'fuck it' and going to sleep without it. But he can hear Ian's voice in his head, asking if he was a good boy, and he doesn't want to disappoint his lover. Grumbling, he pushes himself up off the mattress and gathers what he’ll need out of the drawer in the bedside table.

He finally falls asleep just after one a.m., only to be pulled from his slumber less than two hours later by the sound of the front door being unlocked. A ghost of a smile plays over his lips as he hears Ian come in. He shuts his eyes, sinking further down into his pillow and listens as Ian comes straight to the bedroom. Malcolm waits, still and silent, as Ian strips out of his clothes and crawls into bed, curious to see what his lover will do.

The mattress dips and then Ian is beside him, close enough that Malcolm can feel the warmth of his body, but not touching. The older man sighs softly and gently runs the back of his fingers over Malcolm’s cheek and forehead, brushing his hair back from his face. It’s a tender gesture, full of emotion that Ian rarely displays when they’re awake, and Malcolm can’t help but respond. He smiles, turning his head into the touch, opening his eyes to search out Ian’s face in the dark.

He’s laying on his side, propped up on one elbow, head resting on his hand as he looks down at Malcolm. He smiles back when he sees that Malcolm is awake, and while it starts out tender and sweet, it quickly turns into something slightly darker.

“You awake kid?” Ian asks gruffly.

Malcolm chuckles, stretching languidly beneath the covers. “Hi Ian, welcome home. I missed you, too,” he replies cheekily. 

Ian growls, pushing Malcolm onto his back and leaning over him, holding himself up on one arm and slipping the other beneath Malcolm’s head and twisting his fingers in his hair, tilting his head back to just the right angle as he leans down and kisses Malcolm, hard. Malcolm gasps against Ian’s lips and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in past Malcolm’s lips, deepening the kiss immediately into something possessive and claiming. By the time he pulls away Malcolm is panting and desperate for Ian’s touch.

“Oh god, Ian. I need you…  _ please _ ,” Malcolm begs, hands clutching desperately to Ian’s shoulders, torn between wanting to pull him back into another filthy kiss and wanting the damn cage off right fucking now.

Ian huffs out a laugh, deep and dangerous, releasing his grip in Malcolm’s hair to slide his hand along to cup his throat, thumb pressing against the soft tissue below Malcolm’s chin, fingers wrapped gently around his neck. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to take such good care of you,” he promises. Ian presses in with his thumb, forcing Malcolm to tilt his head back against the pillow. He leans forward and starts to kiss along Malcolm’s jaw, dragging his teeth against his skin and sending fissures of pleasure through Malcolm’s body. 

With a slight change in pressure he’s tilting Malcolm’s head to the side so that his access to Malcom’s throat is unobstructed, the thin, sensitive skin stretched even tighter. He works his way along Malcolm’s jaw, bites down on his ear just enough to hurt, then moves his lips lower, pausing just below the hinge of his jaw. He presses a light kiss there, licks out with his tongue, tasting, testing, then bites down. Malcolm moans, back arching as Ian nibbles and sucks, setting his nerve endings ablaze and sending bolts of pleasure coursing straight to Malcolm’s confined cock.

“Oh my god, Ian. Ian,  _ sir _ , please,” Malcolm babbles, fingers scraping desperately against Ian’s back. 

Finally Ian pulls away, sitting back completely to look down at Malcolm, who’s a panting, writhing mess on the bed beneath him already. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you, Malcolm. I’ve been thinking about you all week, waiting here for me. Were you good for me?” he asks. He runs a hand up and down Malcolm’s flank, soothing him till his breathing slows and his body stills.

Malcolm nods, a needy whine escaping his throat as he answers. “Ye-es,” he moans, “Yes sir, I was good. I’ve been waiting for you,  _ need _ you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Malcolm,” Ian says, sliding his hand over to rub against Malcolm’s lower belly, just inches away from where Malcolm desperately needs him to turn his attention too, to finally free him and let him come. 

Ian stands and Malcolm nearly sobs at the loss of contact. He sits up, watching his lover with wide, desperate eyes as he moves across the room to his dresser and pulls something out of the top drawer. Malcolm does sob, this time in relief, when he hears the light jangling of keys clinking together. 

Ian pauses to grab lube out of the bedside drawer then gets back into bed and sits back against the headboard and Malcolm’s mouth begins to water at the sight of his cock where it juts up between his legs. 

“C’mere, kid,” Ian orders, tugging at Malcolm till he’s settled over his thighs, knees on either side of Ian’s legs, facing him. Malcolm reaches forward to touch him but Ian catches his wrist, tutting and pushing his arm back. “No touching, not yet,” he orders. Malcolm pouts and rests his hands on his own thighs, fists clenching and unclenching fitfully as he waits for Ian to finally touch him. 

Ian rests one hand on Malcolm’s hip and settles the other between his shoulder blades, palm flat, fingers spread wide, touching as much of him as he can. “Are you ready for me, kid? Have you been keeping yourself open for me?”

Malcolm nods eagerly, hips twitching of their own volition at the reminder of the plug snuggled firmly in his ass and he’s suddenly very glad that he didn’t skip out on putting it in before going to bed.

Ian rubs his back soothingly, starting at the base of his neck and strokes down, along his spine, all the way down till he can slip questing fingers down between Malcolm’s cheeks and press against the plug there.

Malcolm’s hips jerk forward and he groans at the touch. Ian circles the rim of the plug with a fingertip, scraping along it with his nail and Malcolm can feel it deep within him. He shudders, hissing in a breath but waits patiently, head bowed as Ian plays with him. Ian knows what he wants, begging won’t make a difference now. All that’s left is to submit to Ian’s whims.

“You’re so good for me, Malcolm. Are you ready for me?”

“God, yes. So ready, been waiting for you for so long,” Malcolm whines.

Finally Ian reaches down between his legs. He cups his aching balls, squeezing lightly and making Malcolm whine even more, then runs his fingertips along the cage with just enough pressure that Malcolm can feel the touch along his swollen, captured cock where it’s pressing painfully against the slender bars. Ian picks up the small padlock and slides in the key and Malcolm moans, so,  _ so _ ready to be free. He turns the key and pulls the lock down till it clicks free.

And then he stops, leaves it unlocked but still dangling, cage still held in place.

“Wha-?” Malcolm gasps out.

“Show me how much you want me, baby. C’mon,” Ian tells him. He reaches around and slides the plug free of Malcolm’s body in one smooth pull, tossing it to the side and then grabbing hold of Malcolm’s hips and urging him forward. He pops open the bottle of lube and squeezes some into his palm. He slicks himself up then uses what’s left to make sure Malcolm is wet enough for him.

“Ian, Ian I can’t. I can’t wait any longer, please I need it off,” he begs, mewling as Ian presses two fingers into him to test how slick and loose he is.

“You can do it, Malcolm. Just a little longer now. Come on, come show me how desperate you are for me, how badly you want my cock.”

Malcolm obeys, lifting his hips and shuffling forward till he’s positioned over Ian’s cock, then lowers himself down with a desperate, ragged moan as Ian stretches him, fills him. He doesn’t stop till he’s fully seated in Ian’s lap and he pauses, breathing deeply as he adjusts.

“Please,” he begs once more, dropping his forehead down to rest against Ian’s shoulder, shuddering when Ian shifts his hips and pushes up into him just that much further.

“Ride me, Malcolm. You can do it, I know you can,” Ian urges.

Malcolm lifts his head, sitting up straight with a groan, bringing his hands up to rest on Ian’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck, Ian, you’re going to kill me.” He starts to move, small rolling motions of his hips first before finally lifting himself up and sliding back down, riding Ian properly, keening at the first delicious slide of Ian’s cock against his sensitive inner walls, going so much deeper, spreading him wider than the plug. It feels good, so good to have Ian inside of him once more but he can’t fully enjoy it, not yet. His cock throbs, desperate for release from its confines.

“Oh, yeah baby, you’re so tight, you feel so good. You’re doing so well, showing me how bad you want me. Almost there baby, just a little more,” Ian murmurs to him, hands busy on his skin, roaming over his chest and back before settling on his hips. He tightens his hold on Malcolm, pulling him down hard and thrusting up at the same time and Malcolm cries out. Ian repeats the motion several more times until Malcolm has tilted forward once more, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face buried in his neck, exhaling in desperate sobs as Ian fucks up into him, uses him for his pleasure.

Suddenly Ian stills and releases his hold on his hips to bring his hands between their bodies. Finally,  _ finally _ he pulls the padlock free and starts to free Malcolm’s cock from the cage. Malcolm clutches desperately to Ian’s neck as he works, moaning loud and long as Ian slides the cage and ring off, his cock filling so fast that it makes Malcolm lightheaded. 

As soon as he gets the cage off Ian starts to fuck him once more, hard and fast, and it only takes a few strokes until Malcolm is coming with a shout, shooting rope after rope of hot, white come between them as Ian continues to fuck him. Malcolm’s vision goes white at the intensity of his orgasm and he comes more than he’s ever done before. He drifts, falling forward against Ian’s chest, losing track of time as he loses himself in a haze of bliss more intense than anything he’s ever experienced before.

When he comes back to himself Ian is holding him tightly, rubbing soothing circles along his upper back and pressing gentle kisses against his face and hair. Malcolm can feel that he’s still hard and nestled deep inside his body and he gives an experimental roll of his hips, hissing as the motion sends shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated body. 

“Hey, you back with me, kid?” Ian murmurs into his hair.

Malcolm nods, turning his head to press his lips against his lover’s, unable to form a coherent sentence but eager to show him just how good he feels. They stay that way for several long minutes, exploring each other’s mouths, enjoying the feeling of being together once more, until Ian grows impatient, hips twitching up against Malcolm in aborted little thrusts, eager to finally find his own release.

“Malcolm,” Ian breathes, his movements becoming a little more desperate.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Malcolm gasps, ready and eager for whatever Ian wants to give him, his cock already twitching in renewed interest despite the intensity of his first orgasm.

“Hang on, baby,” Ian tells him, wrapping a strong arm around his lower back to keep him pressed firmly against Ian’s body. 

Malcolm holds tightly to Ian’s shoulders and they move together, shifting till Malcolm is on his back with Ian poised over him, still inside of him. Malcolm hooks his ankles together at the small of Ian’s back, and Ian begins to move inside of him once more.

He starts slow, drawing small sighs of pleasure from Malcolm’s lips as the glide of his cock inside of him sends sparks of electricity straight to his cock which is rapidly filling once more, pressure starting to grow low in his belly. 

It’s not long before Ian increases his pace, chasing his own completion. “You gonna come again for me, baby?” he gasps out as he thrusts.

“Yes, fuck, sir. God, you feel so good. Love having you inside of me,” Malcolm moans.

“I’m close, Malcolm. Touch yourself, I want you to finish on my cock again, wanna feel how tight you get when you come.” Ian fucks him hard and fast, shifting Malcolm’s body along the mattress.

Malcolm flings one hand back behind his head to press against the headboard, and fists himself with the other, stripping his cock in time with Ian’s frantic thrusts until his spilling over his hand and stomach once more, coming with a ragged cry.

“Oh fuck baby. Fuck you feel so good,” Ian grunts, hips stuttering and then stilling completely as he thrusts in deep one last time, finally emptying himself deep inside of Malcolm’s body. 

Malcolm shudders beneath him, boneless and spent, legs sliding down limply to rest on either side of Ian’s body, chest heaving as he sucks in ragged breaths. Ian leans forward and presses a quick, tender kiss to his lips before slipping out and they both whine softly at the loss. He settles himself against Malcolm’s body, careful not to crush him. They lay together in silence, each catching their breath and coming down from the high of their orgasms, tangled together in each other’s arms, drifting off into contended sleep.


End file.
